


Usual fiction

by Keiya



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Bromance, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, aroace raphael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 20:05:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7375600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keiya/pseuds/Keiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The usual trope, where familiy presses the character to find a significant other. And my, well, a bit unusual interpretation of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Usual fiction

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Seiya, for betaing!

Raphael Santiago is twenty eight years old. 

Raphael Santiago is twenty eight years old, he’s a teacher for some classes at the university as well as the linked advanced school and he’s happy.

Not that he can really explain that to his family.

 

“Rapha, we all just miss you so much.” His mom’s voice is sweet, deep, a bit sad. Raphael feels as an inevitable disappointment immediately. 

“Mom, I saw you just a couple of weeks ago, and we’re Skyping constantly.” He’s a horrible, cold-hearted being. He doesn’t even know why he’s so opposed to going that much.

“Just for three hours! Besides, not all of the family was there. It’s Thanksgiving, Rapha, don’t be a grumpy loner for once.”

“Mom.”

“My heart can’t take the thought that you wouldn’t be with us.”

Oh...well. Or, more like, oh hell.

“Okay,” he sighs heavily.

“And you will stay the night, right? Traffic is terrible for the holidays, honey, going home that late would be a long and completely unnecessary drive.” His mom is a big fan of striking iron while it’s hot and getting everything she wants. She’s fierce and it’s one of the God’s miracles - up until the moment she uses that irresistible force on you. 

“Okay,” Raphael gives up. He has lost the battle. He’s willing to admit his loss and move on. He’s a grown up like that.

“Oh, and dear, please, don’t hesitate to bring a plus-one with you. Any gender. No questions asked.” 

Raphael almost doesn’t catch it, while snickering inwardly about the similarity of his mom’s and Magnus’ vocabulary. But then it connects to him, and. Good Lord. This is why he’s so opposed to anything regarding family get togethers. That’s exactly it.

“I don’t have one.” says Raphael tightly. 

His mom doesn’t sigh desperately, she’s too classy for it. Instead, she starts talking about all the guests, the endless list of cousins, second cousins, his brother’s wives’ relatives and so on, and so on.  
Finally, Raphael is able to end the call. He sits there with the sense of dread sinking in his stomach and the certain knowledge that there would be at least three single girls and one single gay guy at his family’s Thanksgiving. 

And all of them would be aggressively nice to him. In a “I just want to get know you” way. 

“Why do you look like you’re considering escaping to Canada? And I mean, you don’t look like someone daydreaming about crunching snow-”

Raphael shudders.

“-but more like someone who’s thinking about getting a new passport and catching the next flight.”

Raphael turns around. Simon has his head poked into his room, glasses uneven on his nose, right cheek is smeared with ink.

God, his roommate is an idiot.

“Family difficulties,” he makes an unsure gesture. 

“O-kay,” says Simon slowly. “I’m ordering. Indian. You’re in?”

Raphael winces slightly. Luke, the head of Simon’s work department, has somehow gotten Simon to love spicy food. Raphael hasn’t gotten around to undoing that spell yet.

“Pass,” he says. Simon shrugs.

“Good luck dealing with the family, dude, you’ll need it. In fact, I can look for rabbit’s foot for you.”

The door clicks, closing. Suddenly Raphael’s mind starts whirling at full speed.

“Lewis!” Raphael calls out. Simon appears again.

“Jeez, why so loud? What, you reconsidered your life choices and decided to have some delicious Indian…”

“I need a favor.” 

Simon stumbles into the room on the seriousness in Raphael’s voice and shuts up. Raphael tells him.

 

“So you told them I'm your, uh, significant other? Your honey bunny? Your…” Simon raises his eyebrows, waggles them a little. They’re sitting in Raphael’s car, stuck in the traffic. 

“You're an idiot,” Raphael's hand gravitates to his faces. It's a natural response to Simon's presence. He looks at Simon - and Simon's mouth is already open. There’s exactly one second till he says “your idiot!” as if it's the funniest joke ever, but Raphael beats him and says “Don't.”

Simon wilts. 

“No, I told them that you're my friend. Of course. they will automatically assume we’re in a relationship. Or that I want to be in one with you.” He sighs and gives up to his need to specify. “I don’t.”

“Dude, I got the memo. Like, half a year ago, when we stopped hating each other guts-”

“Wait, we did?”

“-and I started flirting with you. You have an awesome ‘I’m not interested and not sorry about it’ face, my poor self-esteem barely survived.”

Raphael, to be honest, can’t even remember Simon flirting with him, and he’s seen Simon trying to woo someone, it’s transparent. He’d never thought second-hand embarrassment could be actually painful, but alas. 

“It wasn’t personal.”

“Yeah, I pretty much guessed it. You’re not actually interested in anyone, right?” Simon doesn’t sound judging or bewildered. There is some curiosity in there, but nothing else.

“Basically, yes. I guess I could be with someone, but why should I be?” Raphael thinks about his life. He has his studies, his students, who are both a pain in the ass and the eternal source of amazement and inspiration for him at the very same time. He has Magnus, his best friend, who drags him out of his flat and to parties, shops, museums, and even parks - you can never be sure with Magnus. He has some other friends, from the university, and from that strange group that comes attached to Alec, Magnus’ boyfriend. He has an idiot roommate, too.

Raphael’s fine. He’s better, than fine, actually, he’s safe and dedicated and socially active, and he - he’s happy, okay, in the quiet content way.

“You know, it probably means that you’re aromantic and asexual. Or one of them, I shouldn’t try to define you, right? I really shouldn’t, I just want for you to know that it’s a thing, okay? I’ll send you some links, research it.” Simon coughs. “Or don’t. I mean, no pressure. Fuck, I’m so bad at this.”

Raphael smiles. 

“I’m pretty sure you could do worse.”  
“Such confidence in my skills.”

“Well, I’ve met you, haven’t I?”

Simon snorts. The car in front of them starts moving and Raphael goes back to driving. 

 

Raphael’s mom meets them on the porch. Raphael kisses her cheek, looks her all over. She has some gray hair, some wrinkles, but her spine is straight and her eyes are glistening. Raphael is always scared that he will find an old helpless woman back at home instead of his fire of a mother.

She hugs him, her palms warm, and releases easily - Raphael is not alway comfortable with touches and it’s so good to know his mom pays attention and remembers. 

Simon flails at his side, awkward as a newborn giraffe. 

“Hi, Mrs. Santiago,” he waves a little. Hopeless, Raphael thinks. 

“This is the friend I told you about, mom. Simon.” 

She hugs Simon too, just a second of unsure but sincere embrace. She’s small, and Simon makes a panicked face at Raphael over her shoulder. 

She doesn’t ask Simon to call her by first name and instead shows them the room. It’s a room Raphael and his younger brother had back when they were younger, complete with the bunk bed. It’s in a desperate need of a makeover, Raphael makes a mental note to himself.

“It’s not as scary as I thought, actually.” Simon sits on the bottom bed. “Is everyone in your family that intense?” 

Raphael smirks. 

“I’m one of the most relaxed ones, actually.”

Simon’s face is actually priceless.

 

Nudging begins at the dinner that day. Not all of the family is here yet - two of Raphael’s brothers will arrive tomorrow with their wives and kids, and couple of uncles and aunts with their families too - and the ones who are here right now settle for silently watching as Raphael’s mom subtly interrogates Simon. 

He takes it surprisingly well. As in, he’s not fleeing out the door. He shares the story about how he met Raphael easily, throws in some jokes, talks about Magnus being a good friend and introducing them to each other when they were both looking for a roommate. He explains how he knows Magnus - his childhood friend Clary is currently dating Izzy, Magnus’ boyfriend’s sister - “Oh, my squad is not as queer as it sounds… Except it, well, is,” he stumbles and then brightens. “Oh, well, we have Jace. He’s our token straight friend. For now. We’re working on it.”

Everybody laughs. Mother looks at Raphael with meaning. She implies he has to hurry and conquer Simon’s heart. Or something. 

Ugh.

The dinner ends peacefully and they excuse themselves to go to their room. Simon gets on the top bunk and is out like a light, probably tired after that much socialising and polite torture. 

Raphael reads some of the links Simon sends him - it’s a couple of articles and a couple of tumblr posts, which are, unexpectedly, well written and much more sophisticated than the actual articles. 

The information is not shocking to him, but really…it’s honestly interesting and it just fits? For the most part. Raphael wonders how much time Simon wasted on these topics until he found good sources. 

Well, he will buy Simon some ice cream or pizza as thanks. It will be enough. 

(Not really, but Simon will appreciate the gesture.)

He drifts into sleep thinking about the term “aromantic” and the taste of cherry ice cream.

 

The next day is a mess. 

There are children everywhere. They’re running, and screaming, and Simon catches Raphael’s niece in the exact second she tries to fall from the stairs. She’s six and ungrateful, so she runs away the moment he lets her go and Simon spends a good minute looking in the direction she disappeared in. 

Raphael tries not to laugh at Simon’s pout. He’s not successful.

“It’s after the car ride,” he explains to Simon. “They will wear themselves out soon enough.” 

“Nice catch!” they hear behind them. Raphael turns and tries not to wince. 

“Thanks,” Simon says. “I’ve got a baseball player buried deep in me. He’s dead and rotten, but I got him.”

Jules laughs and offers Simon her hand to shake. 

“I’m Jules. And this little monster’s mother. And you?” She looks at Raphael - he feels his face becomes stoic - and back at Simon.

“I’m Simon, Raphael’s friend.” Simon shakes her hand. He looks absolutely at ease, which is ridiculous. Raphael tries to send him a silent message - Jules is not to be trusted, not to be trusted, code red.

“Friend, huh?” Jules smiles sharply. Simon flinches. She stares. Raphael swallows the moan of misery and doom.

“Yep, friend,” Simon answers belatedly.

“Suuure!” 

Dear God, Raphael thinks. Do you hear me? It’s me, Raphael.

Simon excuses himself and goes - supposedly to bathroom, but there’s a possibility of him going to hide in their room and then running away to the safe haven of home via the window.

“Rapha!” Jules grabs his arm. She’s excited, happy and aggressive. “You should ask him out! He’s nice and he obviously has crush on you!”

“First, I don’t want to, and second, he doesn’t.” 

Jules tugs his arm, and whispers, as it’s some sort of conspiracy, “He does! He was so unsure when he told me he’s your friend! It’s because he wants you to be more, okay?” 

Or because you’re nuts and scared him, Raphael thinks. That’s always that possibility too.

“Jules.” He makes her let his arm go. Looks in her eyes. “No.”

He leaves the room and goes to the kitchen, to help his mother with lunch. She asks him about Simon too, and tries to encourage him to “do something”, but she’s subtle about it, and her eyes are soft. 

In fact, the whole family tries to make him make some sort of move. It’s infuriating. It’s all the small things - his brother inviting him to the stables he works in, saying Simon’s welcome to tag along, and then making a joke about Brokeback Mountain, his youngest brother, who is only sixteen, talking about going out with a non-binary girl - “They are not a girl if they’re non-binary,” Simon corrects, “that’s kind of the point,” - and glancing at the Raphael all the damn time, like Raphael is afraid of his family being homophobic or whatever. Simon tenses at each and every comment, but doesn’t say anything. 

 

It’s much later, after the dinner, which is spent in the same manner, when Raphael is looking for Simon to maybe watch some movies before going to bed, that he hears screaming. It’s from the kitchen, and Raphael remembers Simon volunteering to wash the dishes and - oh hell - Jules saying that she’ll help him. 

The kitchen is crowded. Simon looks as he can’t see anyone though. 

"You don't want him to 'just be happy', you want him to be happy in the way that makes sense to you, and lady, do I need to google the definition of the word 'egotistical' for you, cause it freaking fits!" He shakes his hands, spraying the water and foam everywhere. “Did you even ask him how his classes are? How the students are? Or even what he write about in his articles?”

Jules opens her mouth. Her face is red, there are some tear stains on it.

“And I know, personal drama is much more interesting, but Raphael is okay! He’s fucking peachy! He’s happy, as far as I know, and I actually asked him!”

“Simon.” 

Simon turns to him and shuts his mouth immediately. He rubs his hand over his face, his hair strikes into every direction. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. Then looks at Jules and repeats, “Sorry, Jules. I lost my mind a bit. Sorry, guys. I...” 

“You should probably drink a lot of water and go to sleep,” says Raphael’s mom softly. 

“I’m not drunk.” Simon huffs.

“I know you aren’t.” 

Simon smiles weakly. Raphael claps him on the shoulder on his way out - otherwise Simon would worry himself sick about Raphael being angry with him, that idiot.

When he leaves, everyone spends some time in stunned silence. Jules washes her face. 

“So,” slowly says Raphael’s youngest brother. “That’s your friend.”

“Yeah,” Raphael says and smiles. “One of the best, actually.”

“It’s not a Thanksgiving without good screaming match,” his mom notices. “He has some lungs.”

“He’s a wannabe singer.”

“We’ll talk about all of it.” His mom promises. “Okay?”

It’s not like Raphael was ever able to say no to his mother.

“Yeah.”


End file.
